


A special sort of evil

by SwordofRebecca



Category: Dragon Quest VIII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordofRebecca/pseuds/SwordofRebecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping from a horrible prison for crimes he didn't commit, Angelo stews in his repeating thoughts while comforting someone close to him. Darkfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A special sort of evil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moemachina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moemachina/gifts).



> Takes place before a major battle on Neos. The shifts in tenses are deliberate and so are the repetitions. IMO, this is the result of getting out a very bad situation that seemed inescapable. It doesn't help that it was done by someone who really knew better. Enjoy!

You took his innocence. I see it when he looks up at me with those brown eyes. He spent over a month trying it hide it. I remember. One cannot forget the awful prison on Purgatory Island. He often tried to speak to me, but I would push him away, and I wept inside when I saw the hurt he carefully concealed while he spoke to everyone else. I thought of you. I couldn't get you out of my mind. Your green eyes, your smug smile as the guards dragged me and my friends away for a crime none of us committed. You were the last person I saw. You were the last person HE saw. Damn your smile.

You took his innocence. He hid it incredibly well while he kept asking for information, while he tried to comfort High Priest Rolo when he didn't have to. You remember Rolo, don't you? The man who used you for his own gain? I really can't blame you for turning on him, but us? Why am I asking why?

We spent a month in that prison and it felt like forever. Even now, I am shocked that we are out. Rolo redeemed himself by saving us all. Will you? I doubt it.

I made a new robe with that lovely alchemy pot. It's red and gold. I look magnificent in it. When I see you again, I know you will seethe in envy like you always have. You were never beautiful and you never will be. You will never have the same sort of spark I have. You never will. I'll be sure to remind you while you give your speech as Lord High Priest.

Freedom became a sort of waterfall when we boarded our ship to the anywhere beyond the tiny island. Feelings kept inside slowly, but surely crept out. Yangus, of course, revealed his fury first, but not for what happened to him, but for the one he considers a dear friend. You would know damned well who I speak of. You took his innocence.

Jessica also showed her rage, but channeled it into concern for the world that you clearly intend to rule. King Trode and Medea sided with her while agreeing with a certain someone that you needed to be stopped, but after resting in Savella. It's not like him to suddenly take charge unless he is on the battlefield, but I knew he was right. I remember him holding his pet mouse "Munchie", looking into its eyes while his own took on a darker shade than usual. I stayed away from him. I still wasn't in the mood for any chit-chat. You took his innocence.

Oh? Me? My rage? I know you won't care until it affects you. I kept it within me and wore a cloak of sorrow around it. I couldn't keep you out of my mind. Your smug smile. Your piercing green eyes. Your voice. When I looked in the mirror, I saw you staring back. No doubt you look splendid in blue while preparing for your "official coronation" that you do not deserve. You took his innocence.

I am drowning in my hardened feelings. I clutch the silk bed sheets while I close my eyes trying to get you out of my mind. I feel like I am losing myself; like I want nothing more than to wallow in tears, but I feel his arms around me.

I know it's him. I can taste him on my lips and smell him in my clothes. He smells like cool, morning earth mixed with blueberries. He is quiet, but I can feel his quickening breath in my hair and feel his hands clutching my back. His grip tightens. I can feel his heart beating against me. I can feel his tears against my cheek. I don't know how much time has passed, but eventually, he holds me at arm's length and I can see myself in his glaring brown eyes.

"I want him dead," Hyacinth whispers. He is talking about you. Tears continue to run down his face, but I know those tears. I've cried them many times. "I want him dead."

We both know what happened. We know what you have done. You killed the last heir of the sages. You did it. You almost ruined us and you seal it all with a murder. I didn't believe my lie saying that you were possessed by an ancient staff. I know your will, and it is strong. You were never taken by Rapthorne. You did all this. All of this.

Hyacinth is crying now. He holds me again, clutching at my Crimson Robe as I return his embrace. No one has ever elicited such a reaction from him. For as long as I have known him, he has never wished death on anyone. Not even Dhoulmagus, who was nothing but evil, brought such a thing out of Hyacinth. I know he hates the feelings coursing through him, but he feels them anyway. You took his innocence.

You did this. You. The man you killed was right about you. Under your deeds, you do indeed have a good soul, but you have chosen to sully it with malice and a full understanding of how your deeds affect others. You know this to the very core of your being. All for your ambition. You are a special sort of evil.

"I keep having dreams of him," Hyacinth says, his voice muffled by cries he is trying hard to suppress. "I keep seeing his eyes. His smile. I remember him in the light when the doors closed. I can't make it go away. I keep hearing his voice. I hate him. I want him dead."

I let the boy's words sink within me. I understand his dreams all too well. My hands run through his wild brown hair held only by a red bandana. Hyacinth. Poor, sweet, no longer innocent Hyacinth.

I say to him what you have said about me. "Death is far too good for him."

I think of your piercing absinthe eyes. I think of your grin. I think of your wicked voice. You have ruined my life, and the Goddess knows how many others. You took his innocence. Soon, I will take from you the only thing I can.


End file.
